Monday, November 10, 2008

I am whore.

I couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with me, but James was like a drug. No matter how much I tried to focus on Don, who I loved, adored and cherished, my babies father was drawing me in like crack.  

Two weeks after Jane and Pricilla's bundle of joy was born into Lesbian bliss I had broken down and confessed to Priscilla.  I knew she would understand, she was more like me than Jane ever was. 

Priscilla was from a broken home, grew up poor and preferred fighting to making love.  When I started crying she had pulled me in by the back of my neck and kissed me. "Babe, those men are going to kill you."  I couldn't help but laugh... she was still trying to recruit me.

I took some solace, lying next to her in bed with her baby girl.  Dylan was with his James, James...I couldn't stand to call him "biological" as if what we had done was nothing more than an experiment.

I could taste him, on my lips every time I kissed Dylan, smell him.  I fought it but suddenly I wasn’t sure how much longer I could resist him.  He didn’t even want me, he had walked away from me after that first and only time.  Shit.

I was drifting off, Pricilla was breast feeding and my phone rang.  A picture of James that I had used as is ID photo made me laugh, he was picking his nose.  I never meant it to warm my heart, I had been looking at that picture for months it wasn’t any funnier but I was excited that he was calling.

“Hey baby, I need to drop Dylan off early.”

“OK”  My heart skipped a beat, Don was at the bar already.

“I have a date.”  I could damn near hear him smiling. 

“What the fuck?” Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

 Savannah?” James sounded completely confused.

 “Oh, sorry…I was watching something on TV” God I was an idiot to think I was anything more than somewhere to bury his misery.

I told Pricilla to stay put.  Put my coat on and hit the street searching for a cab.  

My chest ached, I needed a drink.

 



Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Friends and Family


It was no secret that I was crap at the family and friends deal. I was defensive, overly sensitive and had a way of letting insults fly out of my mouth. The older Dylan got the more I started to return to being my old self. Part of me was already afraid of the kid leaving me—then I would think of my mother and knew that letting him go would be the best thing I could do for both of us when the time came.

Winter had come to San Francisco, the miserable bone cold rain, the fog and the smell of mold in any building over fifty years old…including our little Chateau. Don had found it first, some scary Chupacabra shit that was growing behind the toilet of the guest bathroom. It was the color of human flesh and reached out like tendrils daring you to sit on the crapper.

Don had the cleaning service scrub the offending wall only to find that hours later it was back. Now he was shaking his head while environmental inspectors ticked a list off of what would need to be done to the house. Meanwhile, thanks to the location and age of the house a San Francisco Historical Preservation Society Matron, was standing buy saying what could and couldn’t be done to the molding and wainscoting.

The cleanup was going to cost him a small fortune and we were suddenly homeless. After four days in an overpriced hotel, the kid who spent a good deal of life in poverty came out in me and we moved in with Pricilla and Jane. It didn’t last long, especially since Priscilla was about to pop and kill someone.

Finally a friend of Don’s had suggested we stay in his loft while he was in Belize or somewhere else I had never heard of. The loft was a maze of childhood treachery, spiral staircase, hard metal and cement edges. I refused to go up the stairs with Dylan and ended up buying a folding bed to sleep on in the living room. It was miserable so when Jane invited us to a Barbeque in Dublin I couldn’t refuse, I had to get out of Bachelor hell anywhere I could and being able to take the baby was a bonus.

It was time to eat my words or thoughts as they were, Dylan was gurgling and happy on Don’s lap while I stared at people that I thought that Jane would never associate with. They were preppy, lived in condo on a golf course and talked about golfing and tennis like it was a required social skill.

I tired to focus on the glass of wine in my hand while Jane sat holding Pricilla’s hand in a death grip and smiling. Both women were dressed in wrap dresses, tights and boots. My lip curled at their treachery.

“So you own a bar?”

Jane’s father looked at Don who smiled back at him.

“Yes.”

“What’s it called again?”
“The Pink Puss-E” Priscilla bit out through clenched teeth.

I turned and looked at her my face obscured by the wine glass and mouthed.

“You bitch” and took a sip of wine.

Priscilla’s lip curled into a smile. Just this morning she had assured me that this was a casual get together. Little did I know it was the first time Jane’s parents were being introduced to Jane’s girlfriend and the mother of her child.

The doorbell rang and everyone let out a collective sigh at the distraction, until I saw who the distraction was. James walked in looking gaunt, I looked down suddenly conflicted not because of the awkward explanation of his relation to the little group but because my heart leapt when I saw him. Dylan pumped his legs harder in excitement at his fathers’ deep drawl.

I chided myself…”he is the father of your child you are always going to be emotional about him…get a grip” I said the last out loud and didn’t mean to.

Jane caught my distress and rose. “Savannah why don’t’ you help me in the kitchen.”

In the kitchen Jane turned on me “Do you love him.”

“Yes” I blurted it out before I thought about it.

“Wait, who?” Jane smiled “James” she said as she started popping raspberry and brie hors devours on a baking sheet.

“Oh” I shook my head like I needed to clear it, even though I knew exactly who she was referring to.

“Of course I do, he is the father of my child.” I thought it sounded good and apparently Jane did to because she smiled. “I am sorry I tricked you.” She kissed me on the cheek then donned and oven mitt and popped the tray into the oven.

Jane made herself another Mojito and headed back into the fray, I wasn’t sure this party could get any worse. Apparently a few other close friends were invited to show up but had politely declined.

When the doorbell rang again I prayed that it was the police saying that we needed to evacuate. Instead I heard the dulcet tone of Raymond, a transplant from West Africa, via England. His accent had picked up the indigenous harmonies of his parents home and the posh sounds of British aristocrats.

His mother was a personal assistant to a wealthy textile tycoon and Raymond had spent his days surrounded by children with the plumiest of accents at the best schools. In London he was a well known footballer at one point. In San Francisco, he was gay interior designer and Jane’s boss.

I took a deep breath and walked out to greet the new guest and walked smack into James. I forced a smile.

“How are you doing? You look thin.”

“I am doing good, it was nice to be with the family.”

“Was it?” James smiled a little mournfully.

“I like your sister tremendously.” My smile was genuine as I relaxed a little.

“She spoke highly of you as well and is already planning on Dylan spending his vacations from school in New Orleans.” I frowned.

“Maybe in High School” James laughed and I took the opportunity to scoot past him.

Pricilla was holding Dylan looking at him like he was going to explode. Dylan was slobbering all over her and laughing about it.

It took me a second to notice that both Jane and Don were missing, while Raymond chatted freely with the rents’ my instinct told me not to go looking for them so I sat down.

Was this it? I thought to myself as I looked around the room.Married, with a baby from a former lover and Lesbians as my best friends?

I knew I was nuts every time I got the feeling to run away from it all. To go back to taking whatever drug I could get my hands on and cheap booze, I was lucky I wasn’t in a ditch. Even still I couldn’t help but feel that there was a part of me who didn’t want to be happy because that little part of me knew that I would be broken if anything happened to my family.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Times Up!

James was staying in New Orleans. Part of me was glad that he would be gone and the other part of me wanted to plead with him not to ditch his son while he got his head together. Don and I were actually discussing moving here, I wanted to buy a small B&B and run it and then the Nugget could stay with me all of the time. We both decided to wait until things were a little less emotional to make a decision, plus there was the small fact that I couldn’t cook and didn’t know anything about lavender scented sheets and the niceties that went along with running a B&B.

Charlie and I had said our goodbyes yesterday. He promised to come visit and I promised the same. I shook of the feeling that I would never see him again. The last time I felt that way was when I was twelve. My grandmother had been in the hospital, I had to go back to school and she had asked me to filch some more Jello for her. She thanked me, kissed me and said “bye suga”. Something made me turn and look and she was looking right back at me her eyes soft over her Jello but it was like she was telling me that this was the last time and she urged me to keep going without opening her mouth. She slipped into a coma the next day and never regained consciousness.

Don knew what I was thinking and assured me we would be back and everything would be ok.

Back in San Francisco

When we touched down I don’t know what came over me. It was like an umbilical was tethered to me it had enough room in the plan but know it was tight, it was yanking me back. I hesitated at the curb, as Don loaded our bags into a Super Shuttle Van. Don urged me forward. I fished my cell phone out to call Charlie then chided myself. I dialed James instead.

“Come back to me.” was all he said when he answered. “Glad to hear you are ok.” I hung the phone up quickly, closed my eyes and imagined the umbilical snapping free from my belly and dissolving. I sighed with relief and climbed into the van.

“I think I am going to go to work tonight.” Don just smiled at me. “You can’t sit still for a minute can you? You have been on a plane for five hours.” I leaned over and kissed, Dylan chuckled making us both laugh.
Later that night.

At the Pink Pussy my skin tingled with excitement, I loved being at the Bar. I was dolled up in black custom made bustier with a red flower tucked in the back of ponytail. I had defiantly been hanging out in this place too long I was actually itching to get a tattoo. A portrait of Dylan.

I was lost in the thought when a blonde frat boy sidled up to the bar. Or at least I thought that is what he was. When he made direct eye contact with me unwavering and asked for an AMF I thought again. He was in his thirties, dressed preppy casual… drug dealer? As long as he wasn’t making deals in the bar, I really didn’t care. Two years ago I would have been buying from him.

“Are you Savannah?” My skin went from tingling to crawling. My back was to him when he asked the question. Fucking process server? I turned back to him “Yes”. I slid the drink across to him and laid my tits on the bar crossing my arms in front of me in a relaxed position. “What can I do for you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Wow, well that is a loaded question.” He extended his hand. “My name is Guy?” I shook it. “I know, I know, it’s cheesy.” I shrugged. “It is what it is.” I was still waiting for what the hell he wanted.

He must have heard my thoughts and answered. “Nothing, my friend just told me I should check you out the next time I was in town.”

“I see and your friend is?” Guy drank a generous gulp of his AMF.

“No one, just another “Guy” to you but he thought you were hot enough that I should make the trip”

Guy through a ten dollar tip on the table, “It was worth it", he looked me in the eye then at my breasts and turned and walked away.

For a minute my head swelled. “I’m famous”

“What?” Don had snuck up behind me again.

I chuckled as I made another Cock Sucker for the birthday boy at the end of the bar.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Bleeding Heart

It was nearly four and the morning, Charlie and I just couldn’t seem to talk enough. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed him. Years of constantly moving around had taught me to compartmentalize my feelings, and Charlie was no exception. I think the day I left the city, I tucked him away for safe keeping but it was all coming back.
“Should we wait for the sun?” Charlie smiled it me and took another sip of club soda that had probably lost its fizz hours ago. I looked out into the darkness, New Orleans was never quiet. Right now deliveries were being made, cats were mewling to be let in out of the predawn cold and somewhere in the distance the Café Du Monde was greeting the first new customers of the day, the people who actually went to sleep last night.
“Eh let’s go to the café Charlie.” I did my best imitation of a Cajun accent. He smiled and stood up. I had temporarily moved Charlie into the second bedroom of our suite; I didn’t want to loose sight of him at the moment.
When I entered the bedroom I knew that Don was awake, I could feel it. It was like static electricity over my skin. I sat down next to him and leaned over him, kissing him twice. I don’t know what came over me, I started crying. Don wiped my eyes.
“I know, I love you too.” I kissed him again and sucked up my tears.
“Charlie and I are going to Café Du Monde, can I bring you anything?”
I ate enough beneigts to last a lifetime but I still wasn’t full. The city flowed through me as I sat across from Charlie in silence. It was easier to leave after connecting with Charlie. Charlie’s eyebrows rose as I took several deep breaths.
“Troubled?” Charlie bit into a fresh pastry.
“I am worried about James, he isn’t a happy man and weather he agrees with me or not his son can sense it.” I sipped my coffee.
“What happened between you anyway?” I smiled over my coffee cup.
Charlie held his hands up. “Do I want to know?” I laughed.
“James and I met shortly after I landed in San Francisco, we hooked up, that should have been the end of the story but instead we had a baby?”
“Good time gone wrong?” I thought about it.
“Not at all, I don’t think I would be married if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, he completely changed my life.”
“The baby or James.” I smiled at the question.
“Both, I suppose.”
Charlie twirled a plastic stirrer in his hand. “The man’s mother just died, give him some time.”
“He wasn’t happy before that Charlie, he had a uptight woman in his life that seemed to bring him about as much joy as a pillow over his face. He keeps trying to make moves on me.”
Charlie looked at me with a question.
“No, I haven’t accepted them; I love Don…too much I think.”
Charlie looked at me “I know what you mean.”

Monday, December 10, 2007

New Orleans





I was dreading it. This is where my last significant relationship had begun and ended. I loved this town, the way it smelled the pulse of the people the gritty underbelly that I loved to scratch. New Orleans should be my name, when I stepped out of the airport with Dylan, Don and James the cities vibration overtook me and I couldn’t help but smile.

Mother Pearl had died yesterday evening with no pomp and circumstance. James father had only found out five days prior that his wife was dying; with no time to adjust he had simply gone into shock. James was petrified of what he would find, I felt at peace.

The next day as we followed the funeral procession on foot I watched James with his family. His sister was holding Dylan in almost a manic way to her chest while her own son walked by her side. James had his arm around her but every once and awhile would wipe the tears from his face.

He was all alone—in the middle of his family he was alone. I gripped Don’s hand harder. Don reacted by kissing my cheek and wrapping his arm around my waist. Eventually I was going to have to come clean with James that I knew his mother was dying before he did. I had hours of tape and notes about his family, things that he probably didn’t know.

I heard the band change from the morose lament that curled up your spine to the jazzy jubilation that accompanies the body to it’s final resting place. This was for Mother Pearl it was no longer about the rest of us. Don unconsciously tapped my waist to the rhythm and I stopped worrying about James, he would find his way.

When we crossed the threshold of the cemetery a familiar face stood at the entrance in a pair of coveralls holding a broom. His eyes lit up but he hesitated to say hello, I disengaged from Don and walked to him and his open arms. My uncle Charlie was a drifter but had settled in New Orleans some years ago and was around when I still lived here. He was 67, and looked better than my father did in his thirties. He had never touched drugs or alcohol but the death of his young wife had made him a bit crazy before I was even born.

Charlie laughed almost too loud holding me closely. It had never failed; we have always found each other like this. One night he picked me up out of the gutter after I passed out, another time I had gone into the library to escape the humidity and found him surrounding by books on bugs and now at the cemetery gates. He was my unlikely companion in the city, while I never felt lonely I always had a certain longing for family that Charlie filled.

Don interrupted by coughing softly.

“Don, this is Uncle Charlie on my fathers side. Charlie this is my Don, my husband.”

I don’t know why it came out like that. ‘Don, my husband” sounded awkward ringing back in my ears.

“Pleasure,” Charlie and dawn shook hand vigorously. Charlie was obviously pleased with the news his smile got even larger.

“You better get in side kid, I will find you when I get out.” He waved us through the cemetery gates. Don and I had to nearly jog to catch up to the procession. I bit my lip to hide my joy but it was obvious to Don who smirked.

I felt as though James was watching me but I refused to look at him, I knew my heart would sink and I didn’t want to let this moment go.



I knew I could escape greeting the family at James’ childhood home. Which should have been turned into a bed and breakfast decades ago, the Plantation stunk of old money and misdeeds, it was gorgeous.

Not willing to loose sight of Uncle Charlie I had pleaded with him to come to the house when I realized I could be stuck for hours. He agreed and showed up wearing a suit that was slightly out of style but made him look even more handsome.

I could see him walking down the driveway with flowers and I realized that I hadn’t even told him about Dylan, who was in the clutches of his fathers family still. I sat on the porch swing waiting, escaping. I held an untouched mint julep in my hand that Don had made when he got suckered into playing bartender.

James stepped out of the house but didn’t see me at first. He stared in the distance and lit up a cigarette. When he did see me, he flicked his ash on the pristine white porch and blew smoke out of his nose. The door opened behind him.

“Put that out.” his sister was holding Dylan and was attempting to at last pass him off.

“I will take him.” I stood and hurried toward the nugget who was two seconds away from crying. His lip quivered but when I tucked him into my arm and held me momentarily to my neck he calmed down.

Charlie was mounting the steps and I realized I was going to do some fast talking. He kissed me, James looked at me confused.

“James, this is my Uncle Charlie. Charlie, this is James, the father of my son Dylan.” Wow it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

Charlie refrained from chuckling, instead he looked at James. “James, I think we should call her Cat, because she always manages to land on our feet.” James smiled slightly and nodded before asking be excused.

I looked at Charlie apologetically, “His mother was the one who died.” Charlie smiled. “I know Sugar, these folks are famous round here.” I rolled my eyes and ushered Charlie to the porch swing.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Kill Me Now


Lunch, Brunch or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it was not going well. If my high-heel could have found a hard surface it would be clicking a rapid beat on the floor. As it was my knee had hit the table twice, startling James’s mother. How do I get myself into these situations? Oh right, I get drunk and have sex with someone that I picked up in bar.

James was occupied with the Nugget who tried to walk this morning—he would bloody be in his right mind to run away from me. James’ momma was a true Southern Belle, while I was just blue collar trash. For some reason I found it difficult not to slip into my accent that I had rid myself of so long ago—but something about the way she said Savannah.

Mother Pearl, as she wanted to be called was dumped into my lap, two days ago I didn’t know she existed. Apparently this woman had no love for Ann Marie and James wanted to make up for his bride to be shortcomings with the mother of his child. She eyed me up and down, when I skipped the second round of mimosas and started knocking Gin Gimlets, I thought I saw her smile.

“Savannah, now where did you say you were from again?” Can I roll my eyes now?

“From Georgia, ma’am.” I did my best not to drawl and I was pulling it off.

“And what did you say your family did.” What a bitch.

“My father was into drinking, so much so that it killed him. My mother, well she is just a fuck-up all around who has a different boyfriend every week and a different excuse for why her life is so bad.”

James nearly pissed his pants—who would have known he was a mommas boy. I was just thankful that he wasn’t her oldest—if James were her oldest that bat would have crucified and James staked through the balls for his indiscretions. He was saved by the fact that his older brothers married proper southern woman and had their families traditionally.

Jesus. It was 12:37 and I was sitting in restaurant over looking the San Francisco Bay, I had choked down Oysters Rockefeller and now was staring down lobster quiche and green salad. The nugget looked at me and laughed—he had been doing that a lot. He found something about me hilarious, he was clapping his hands and throwing his head back against James.

“Mamamama”

I smiled, the little bugger was smart. I couldn’t wait for him to talk—I was lost in the image of Dylan the college student when Mother Pearl interrupted.

“So your husband owns, a bar?” She curled her lip when she said it.

“Yes, it’s called the Pink Pussy and I work there three nights a week as a bartender.”

“Oh, and does that pay well?” I was going to stick it to this elitist Ole Miss bitch.

“It pays quite well Mother Pearl… I was thinking—you have to see my home before you leave.”

She looked frightened and James scolded me. She had found his living accommodations to be less than satisfactory but as marketing VP she calculated that he made more money an d my house would be deplorable.


Across the bay…

I was bringing Mother Pearl a glass of water, the Nugget was down for a nap and I was praying that Don would come home. James made his excuses—which was he had to check on Ann Marie who didn’t know I would be at the brunch. I kicked off my shoes and watched as she marveled and Don’s random collection of valuables. It wasn’t my shit but what the hell did she know.

I frowned at my pantyhose; there was a hole in the toe. Without thinking I tucked my thumbs into the waistband under my dress and pulled them off. Bunching them up I am sure I had a look of utter pleasure on my face when Mother Pearl turned around. She took a step back as if my bare legs were just to much for her. When I realized it wasn’t me, I turned to find Don standing behind me.

I laughed then made my introductions.

“Don, this is Mother Pearl—James’ mother. Mother Pearl this is Don, my husband.”

Don extended his hand. He was actually dressed very nice in slacks with a button down black dress shirt, he had recently ditched the buddy holly glasses and was sporting some fashionable Dior glasses. He still looked like a thug, and the exposed tattoos didn’t help.

Her mouth was still open when the doorbell rang, then the person impatient stuck their key in the door and walked in. James had key, as did Jane. Something told me it wasn’t James. Jane rounded the corner and Mother Pearls hand fluttered to her chest. She had, had enough I should be nice.

“Mother Pearl, you must be tired would like to rest in one of the guest rooms until James returns?”

“Yes” she stammered.

I walked her upstairs to the frilliest bedroom we had, the walls were hand painted Chinoiserie Silk and hold over from the previous owner. I actually kind of dug it and it seemed to put Mother Pearl at ease. She had the bed, a chaise lounge and a bathroom so I figured she should feel safe for awhile.

As I walked downstairs to greet Don properly and find out what the hell Jane wanted I suddenly had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. I trotted back to the Nuggets room and he was sound asleep and fine. Don and Jane were catching up on the couch. The smiled when they saw me but I turned and ran to Mother Pearl’s room.

She was laying on her side with her shoes off as I rounded the bed her face was grey and her eyes were clenched shut in pain. I said her name, it was barely a whisper but her eyes fluttered open and she reached out to me. I crawled on the bed as I took her in my arms her wig fell away—revealing a head only covered in small wisps of blonde hair.

I started crying and I felt panic build inside of me. “Don” my voice was stuck in my throat I swallowed hard but before I could try again she touched my face.

“It’s OK, I’m fine.” I looked down at her face and indeed the color was returning. I was still holding her and for some reason I couldn’t stop crying.
“What?”

“It’s cancer dear, the pains just getting worse that’s all.” She gently pulled herself out my arms and sat up straightening her suit and retrieving her wig.

“I can barely make it through an hour before my body chews through the pain medication. I guess they will want to put me on a drip soon.”

I took in a ragged breath and stopped my tears.

“I guess we have a lot of work to do then.” I retrieved a digital recorder from the office. Mother Pearl looked at it suspiciously.

“What exactly is it that you are doing, love?”

“Recording my sons history.”

She damn near smiled.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell James.” She coughed and made further adjustments to her wig.

“My family doesn’t know.” She looked remorseful.

“Have it your way.”

“Where were your parents born?” I switched on the recorder, I couldn’t think of anywhere else to start.

Monday, July 23, 2007

प्रेत्तy इन पिंक



When you are a bartender you pray that certain things don’t happen during your shift. Like some drunken asshole deciding to do a striptease on the bar or a girl getting drugged and carried out by a raping sack of shit. The latter happened to me on Thursday.

I am careful with who handles drinks; I watch the crowd and point out losers to the bouncers. The waitresses are not allowed to chat when delivering drinks and when someone sends a drink to girl I walk it over. Somehow, I had missed the signs.

It’s Friday night and the regulars are buzzing. They are pointing fingers at who let the ball drop and every new face that walks in the door is a suspect. Michelle was just a neighborhood girl, she had a neighborhood job and this was her Cheers. Not particularly outgoing she would often leave after a couple of hours or if things got to rowdy.

Last night, she had decided to stay. This morning she woke up in a stranger’s bed, on automatic pilot she dressed called her roommate for help and hunkered in a coffee shop until she came.

The roommate being sensible had called the police despite Michelle’s protests. When I told Drew that I stopped by to see her at the counseling center, he told me that it was probably a bad idea but he was glad that I had.

The police had actually sent someone to the bar to question staff and test the booze that Michelle had been drinking. Giving up two bottles of Crown Royal was no big deal if it caught the bastard, nor was having our office searched.

We weren’t a high-roller hang out but anything is possible. In Vegas, LA, New York and even places in this city. Bartenders were kept on retainer to do the dirty work of rapists. No big deal, a little E to speed up the process, some GHB to make her forget and making that “special drink” taste like there was nothing it in it.

It all made for a handsome under-the-table business. Those men were just as guilty as the cowards who put them up to it and there was a special hell waiting just for them.

I can’t wait for my shift to be over. It’s 8:00PM.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Something told me that the lawyer sitting in front of me wasn’t completely on the up and up, but then again…what lawyer was. He had checked out my tits twice and kept talking to me as if I were a retard. I was wearing my combat clothes, skinny jeans, red platforms and a black in white striped tunic with a wide belt that matched my shoes.

This fucking sucked. A part of me didn’t want to hurt James but the mother part of me knew that Dylan was bonded to…. This morning I had woken up to find Don with the nugget laying on his chest. Dylan was wide awake, looking back at me with those big blue eyes that didn’t have a worry in them. It was almost like he was listening t Don breathe. For a moment I imagined my brain was a camera and I carefully took in the detail and filed it away where it would always be safe, where it would always be mine.

“Do you love your Daddy?” damned if Dylan didn’t smile. The thought of them being separated ripped my heart open and made me pray for my own long life—something that had never occurred to me until now. I guess you could say that until that very moment I had never been afraid to die. Now I was petrified and sitting across from a man who was getting paid 400 dollars an hour to tell me that…would have no legal recourse unless James agreed to it.

Fuck me for doing the right thing. During the taxi ride home I thought of away to approach it. I thought of a way to make James think it was his idea. But then it hit me—I called him and asked him to come over for dinner before I left for the club that night.

To the outsider it probably looked like I was trying to manipulate him, to keep his eyes on my gams so he would loose his focus—but I was just more comfortable if I thought I looked good. I dressed in a black wrap dress that while comfortable hugged my curves and gave me the confidence I needed to ask what I was going to ask.

As I warmed up the corn and mashed potatoes, I thanked God for Safeway. I artfully arranged the pre cooked side dishes and roasted chicken artfully on a large white plate just as James rang the doorbell.

When I opened the door all of my rehearsal went out of the door. He was clean shaven and wearing a button down shirt with jeans. When he crossed the threshold before I could say come in I instinctively took a step back.

“Please.”

It was too late he cupped his hand behind my neck and met lips which were clamped shut. He tried, he nuzzled, probed and left me with a sick feeling that I predicted would take days to shake.

“Savannah, I?”

“You’re bored.” I held up my hand and nudged him away, trying to keep things light.

“Dinners ready, and I have to get to work so come on.” I walked away from him leaving him wondering about what I said. I hoped he didn’t’ think I was playing hard to get.

When he sat down across from me at the table and poked out the chicken I took a deep swig of the Guwurz that I set out for dinner. Sonnofabitch

“I want you to promise me that you will never keep Dylan away from Don.”

James didn’t look up from his food. He poked at it some more.

“I didn’t cook it.”

He smiled and took a large scoop of the potatoes. “Thank God.”

“I’m serious James.”

“You wouldn’t let me.” He ate some of the corn but continued to avoid the chicken.

“I mean if I’m not here.” I looked at my own food and suddenly found it revolting.

James swallowed hard, “are you taking off.”

I smiled at him, he thought I was running again.

“No, I mean if I am dead James.”

The fucker nearly had tears in eyes when he looked at me, I took another sip of my wine and stood up pacing.

“Are you fucking dying?” He pushed his food away.

I stopped mid gulp and laughed.

“No, I am not dying…”

James was bright red, I couldn’t tell what was going on his head.

“What are you getting at then?”

“I mean,” I paused to finish off my glass.

“I mean that if I die, that you will share custody with my husband.”

James shrugged.

“Fuck, OK. I mean I thought you had cancer or some shit.”

He started in on his food and I started shaking.

“You promise on your sons life and happiness?”

“I promise” he had a mouth full of chicken and roll.

“You scared the shit out of me Savannah.” He washed it down with his own wine.

I walked into the kitchen and doubled over with relief. My body shook as if something couldn’t’ escape it. When I finally started to cry it was silent, and painful.

When I finally put myself back together, James had finished his dinner and was waiting to take me to the pink Pussy.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Of all the Gin joints...



With my luck, I should have known that James would have heard about the police paying a visit to the house. He was in was in my face and Don was no where to be found.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Where was Dylan?”
It was like machine gun fire in my ears. I answered his questions as quickly as possible, bristling with indignation that I would ever put our son in harms way, knowing I had done exactly that but letting Dotty into my home.
“I am taking him tonight.” James was so close I felt a light spray on my nose.
“It isn’t your night until tomorrow, but you are welcome to spend time with your son.” I remained calm, reminding myself to breath in and out.
“I can take him anytime I please, he is my child.” His words bit into my nerves, I felt my face grow warm as my body readied for a fight.
“He is your child.” I said it with as much understanding as I could muster. James turned away from me rubbing his forehead.
“Did he hurt you?” It was such a soft whisper that I thought I was hearing things and didn’t answer. Instead I studied the carpeting.
“Savannah, did he hurt you?” I looked up at James who was looking at me with my sons eyes.
“No, I’m fine.” James stepped toward me and started rubbing my arms. I had disarmed him but not raising my voice but I didn’t want his tenderness.
“I don’t know what I would have done with out you.” I looked at the floor again as he pulled me into an embrace, kissing my temple. Not good, I pulled away with the excuse that I had to pack some baby junk for the nugget.

I decided to visit Jane; she had been in a funk lately. Pricilla was miserable and making her feel every minute of it. I still hadn’t found out who the sperm donor was but I knew that they hadn’t gone used modern techniques. I had a suspicion that a gay man was involved—which would make Priscilla the obvious choice to get preggers since she was practically a man herself.
When I arrived at my old digs I didn’t bother to knock, I just made sure I called out before I saw something I didn’t want to see. It didn’t always work, I found Jane sitting on the couch clutching a pillow. Her eyes were swollen and she was either ready to have a downpour or had just finished one.
I sat down next to her and put my arm around her.
“Jesus.” I looked at the TV. “What are you watching?”
She looked at me incredulously, “It’s Casablanca.”
“Oh, I have heard of that one.” I succeeded in making Jane laugh, she put her head on my shoulder and continued to watch the film.
Something had been weighing on me since James had proffered his affection earlier. I realized that Don had no legal rights to Dylan, even though he loved him and cared for him as a father. Shit

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Take two of these and call me in the morning.


I woke up in the back of an ambulance with a oxygen mask being held over my face.

Fuck

I sat up abruptly immediately becoming dizzy. The ambulance door was still open, I tried to get of the stretcher but the EMT pushed me back down.

“Relax, you need to take a ride to the hospital to check out that noggin.”

I laid back down because there wasn’t really anything else I could do. I was dizzy and felt like I was going to throw up.

“I need to call my husband.”

“I will take care of that.” The police officer from the stairs stepped into the ambulance.

“What's his number?” He looked at his cell phone ready to dial.

He handed the phone to me after he dialed.

“Hey I was just about to call you to see how it went.” Don was calm as usual as if what I was about to tell him wouldn’t even disturb his frame of mind.

“Not so good…” I began.

I kept it brief as possible in attempt not to incriminate myself or scare Don. I told the truth, just not all of it. Like the fact that I knew why the guy was after me.

I kept struggling to sit up so the EMT raised the gurney to a more upright position. Through the door of the ambulance I could see Dotty talking to the police. I tried not to narrow my eyes. Who knows what she was telling them.

The officer stepped off of the ambulance.

“We will be in touch, feel better.”

Yah, I bet we would be in touch. As soon as he found out that the bounty hunter was trying to collar me for stabbing someone. I would be packed up and hauled back to Wyoming.

They scanned my brain at the hospital while I was butt naked with a blanket over me. I didn’t even get one of those little gowns.

By the time I was finished, an anxious husband was waiting to take me home as soon as he got the all clear. Personally I like to think that I just fainted, but the officer said I took a nasty spill and landed on the side of my head.

A hour later with an ice pack and a headache I was discharged into the care of my husband.

There was a cleaning van in the driveway as we pulled up to the house. I looked at Don wondering why he was calm enough to think about cleaning the house.

“The SFPD offered because they dusted the house for prints. I told them to send them and I would pay for it.”

Oh shit, shit.

I took my knife with me, I don’t remember touching anything in the cell and the guy never processed me. They had me for reckless driving which I already did community service for five years ago… the list continued in my head but their was no telling what I couldn’t’ account for.

The cleaning crew had left shortly after Don had put the key in the front door. They had spread out through the place in an obviously unnatural manner. Things were much cleaner than usual, you could smell it.

“Why did they fingerprint?” I tried to sound nonchalant.

“Apparently your mothers boyfriend is an ex con and has habit of escaping prosecution by claiming there was a one armed man.”

“I don’t understand, the police officer saw him trip me.”

“Yeah but he didn’t see him break into the house, they are just covering their bases.”

“I have to tell you something.”

Don stopped wiping chopping the onion he was working on sans tears which was amazing, and looked at me.

“You’re leaving me?”

“Fuck no, I have it too good.” I tried to make my response as humorous as possible.

When he didn’t look relived I closed the distance between us and took his face in my hands.

“I love you, but you are married to a wanted woman.”

He covered my hands with his own.

“What did you do?”

I stated quite simply, and for those of you who don’t remember.

“I was arrested for a drunk and disorderly, at the station I hurled on the cop who was supposed to be processing me. He threw me in a holding cell without booking me, he didn’t even have my ID. Some heifer they had pulled out the back woods from God knows where tried to shove my face into her crotch so stabbed her…”

Don was not blinking

“…in the neck.”

“Jesus” it was a good sign that he was still holding me.

“She lived Don, in the melee I stepped out of the police station and didn’t look back.”

“Jesus.”

I don’t think he was there honey.

Don went back to chopping his onion. I knew he had to process it all, James could get permanent custody easily. I could be patient, until he was ready.

I jumped when the doorbell rang a short time later.

Don looked at me and saw my dismay, he went to the door as I stood in the kitchen clutching a glass of wine.

I could hear a muffled voice ask, “Is Savannah home?”

“Shit, it was Dotty.” I had almost forgotten about her.

Before I had a chance to prepare myself she was standing before me. I started to tell her to get the hell out, before I could she held her hand up.

“Just let me say my peace, then I will leave.”

I closed my mouth then opened it again to take a sip of wine.

“I know about the baby, I just wanted to see him…it’s the only reason I came. I told the police that Ben was boyfriend and when I decided to break up with him, he went crazy.”

“Huff” I didn’t believe her or that the police would believe her.

“Look, I have caused you enough trouble.” she reached into her purse.

Here is my phone number if you decide that you need me. She handed me a piece of paper and started to leave.

“Dotty” I called out to her.

When she turned I embraced her.

“Take care.” I meant it. I also thought this would be last time I saw her until her funeral. She teared up but obediently left. Don walked her out.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Chocolate and Vodka


There is nothing that chocolate and vodka couldn’t cure. I know this because I was having a Martini and nibbling on dark chocolate pieces spiced with some exotic blend while my mother rattled on about her latest marriage.

She was thinner than I remember and looked like she would break if you didn’t use extreme caution. Dylan was with James a day early, to make this visit from mommy dearest possible. Some part of me wanted to believe my secret was safe but come on, she had to know about my kid.

James had informed me that he and Ann Marie were taking a break? WTF does that mean exactly? She had gone back home to spend some time with her family and to decide if being married to James was what she really wanted or so she said. It was clear that James thought she was bluffing, she even accused him of being in love with me. Goddamn if I didn’t see hope flicker across the bastards face when he ran that one by me. I ignored him, kissed Dylan goodbye and told them both I would see them on Sunday.

By the time Dotty had shown up I had already had one Martini finished off and I was looking forward to the second. She had gotten dressed up for the occasion, wearing what I am sure was one of her best church suits at one time. When I opened the door she immediately asked to use “the little girls room”. Jesus—that was the kind of cutesy term she would use for public consumption when I was kid.

I walked around the house sipping my Martini wondering what she was going say and when she walked out of the door this time and how long it would be before I saw her again.

Don had a catered lunch delivered. Elegant little sandwiches, deserts and tea service—foo foo shit. When she finally sauntered into the dining room she clasped her hand together in delight at the spread. I had started eating without her.

“So this is how you live these days?” She started to pull a cigarette out of her purse then thought better of it she closed her purse then cleared her throat.

“You can smoke outside if you need to.”

I took alternating bites from the olive in my drink and the cold salmon and dill sandwich which was nothing but fancy tuna salad.

“No, that’s ok baby girl”

“Mama, please don’t”

“What, you are my baby.”

I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my drink.

“What do you want Dotty?”

“Nothing baby, I haven’t seen in just about forever.” she drawled.

“Ok then how did you find me?”

She smiled, I sensed something devious behind it but she was holding it for now.

“Well my new friend that I have been seeing, he is a real P.I.”

“You used a private dick ( I emphasized dick) to find me?”

“Sure did sugar, he just put your name into his computer and there you were. On file for the world to see applying for a marriage license.”

She went for the cigarettes again and shoved them back.

“Didn’t take too much information after that.”

She was nervous, I sat up trying to read her but I couldn’t. The doorbell rang, I didn’t move her eyes flitted toward the door.

“Who the fuck is that mama?”

“It’s just Ben, I wanted you two to meet.”

I got up and walked to the door, peering out the glass. Jesus, there was no way in hell I was going to open the door.

“Honey, just let him in.” she trotted over to the door grabbing the handle I pushed her back.

“No”

“Don’t be silly” she tried again but I pushed her back.

I grabbed the waistline of her skirt pulling her back.

“Get away from the door.”

She yelled out.

“Ben, this girl has gone crazy and won’t open the door.” she laughed nervously.

It was all the invite been needed, when he used his considerable bulk to ram into the door.

Dotty screamed.

The windows would be easy work. He was no fucking PI.

I grabbed Dotty dragging her behind me I went into the office shutting the door I pushed a bookcase in front of it. I heard the windows break.

“What’s going on? Why wouldn’t you open the door?”

I picked up the phone dialing 911, I rather deal with SFPD then get dragged back to Wyoming with that fucker.

“There is a man trying to break into my house.”

I gave the address with a shaky voice that wasn’t an act. What was going to happen to Dylan?

Yes I was in imminent danger, no I didn’t have a weapon. The dispatcher just wanted to keep me on the phone.

I finally sat the phone down. He was in the house, I could hear his heavy footfalls. Dotty was crying.

“What’s going on? What’s going on?”

I turned on Dotty, my lip curled.

“You brought a fucking bounty hunter to my home! My home!”

“What?” Dotty fisted her hands together looking pitiful.

“You brought that piece of shit here to collar me.” I screamed at her. I didn’t care if he knew where I was.

I was blind, I wanted my child I didn’t want to go to jail. I opened the closet and even with my tunnel vision found a aluminum baseball bat on the top shelf. When I wrapped my fingers around the rubber grip, I felt something primal surge through my body.

I screamed and shoved the bookcase out of the way. I was going to kill him.

“What are you doing?”

Dotty was behind me trying to hold me back, I threw the door wide. The chump was standing there and had the nerve to look smug. I cracked him in the groin with the end of the bat, fucker had a cup on. Where was my knife when I needed it? I dodged him when he tried to grab my shoulders with his meat hooks.

Thwack. I cracked the bat across his knee and felt a surge of energy when I heard the satisfying pop.

“You aren’t taking me! You are taking my kid!”

I cracked his thigh, thwack. He tumbled like and dead weight, recovered then started to draw down on me.

Fuck You

Dotty was screaming and sucking on snot pleading.

I knocked the gun out of his hand sending it skittering across the floor. I raised the bat over my right shoulder, Delores Claiborne here I come.

“Stop”

The voice was not coming from the piece of shit on the ground, with the bat still raised I turned on the first landing there was a cop. A muscular Asian man with his hand on his gun but not drawn.

“Ma’am come down her with me.”

Red spots flared in my vision, I felt sick.

“You're not taking my baby”

I adjusted my grip again.

“Ma’am come down here now.”

When I stepped over the prick, he grabbed my ankle, I fell head first down the stairs. That’s the last thing I remember.

Monday, July 31, 2006

When a stranger calls.

The unexpected can be pleasant, a phone call from a friend, flowers from the person you would least expect them from, finding a twenty-dollar bill when you thought you were broke. This wasn’t pleasant, it was downright painful and I wanted it to be over.

Dylan was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet in the family room and I was settling down to watch GH (Yes it's soap and don't fucking ask), when the doorbell rang. At first, I ignored it. Despite the no solicitations sign we were bombarded by salesmen from Kirby Vacuum’s to Brinks home security systems. When it rang again I sat up straightening myself out. I looked like a mother, wearing a track suit and had my hair in one of those damn buns on the top of my head.

Two feet from the door, I had to check my anger when the doorbell rang again. I threw the it open. A woman was standing on the front steps with her head down, her hair once dyed red had faded to sickly orange color. I waved my hand in front of my face trying to disperse the swirl of cigarette smoke.

“May I help you?”

When the woman looked up, Jesus. She looked awful, deep lines creased her once beautiful face and the warm brown pools that were her eyes were milky and cold.

“Aren’t you going to hug me?”

I dutiful reached out my arms and hugged her, keeping my body as far away from as possible.

“Hi mama.”

I settled her into the living room where no one ever sat. I didn’t know if she knew anything about Dylan—if by some miracle she didn’t know I didn’t want her to find out. I brought her a glass of water, told her stay put and went to the office that was located midway up the stairs.

“Do you want me to come home?”

“No, I am going to have her leave soon.”

“Savannah she is your mother, what are you going to tell her?”

“The truth, that I am busy and I will talk to her tomorrow.”

“What are you busy doing?” I damn near giggled, I couldn’t help it. The sarcasm coming from his voice said he knew worlds about me and my frequent naps since having Dylan.

“Look Savannah, are you sure you don’t want me to come home?”

“Don, I want you to come home.” Silence. I don’t think he could have been more shocked if I had told him to mind his own damn business. I needed him, right now more than anyone or anything I needed in my life.

Dotty was smoking when I came back into the living room. The old impetuous me started making fast strokes back to the forefront of my brain. I pushed her back and walked over to Dotty removing the cigarette from her lips I put it out in the water I have given her earlier.

“This isn’t my house, please don’t smoke.”

“Huh! That’s not what I heard. I heard you got yourself a rich beau.” I smiled as sweetly as possible.

“You heard wrong.”

Then what’s all this, she stood up spinning around. When she started to the family room I started to panic—so I stopped her.

“Mother, what do you want?” I turned my back to her and walked into the dining room then the kitchen. You couldn’t see Dylan from the kitchen, I knew because I kept meaning to move his bassinet, right now I was thankful for being lazy.

Dotty followed like I wanted.

“I just wanted to see you baby.” She reached her hand up and touched my cheek I jumped away from her.

I heard the front door open and nearly burst into tears when I heard Don call out for me.

“Excuse me.” I walked to the front door. Don was calmly standing in the entryway I kissed him and folded into his arms. Dotty was standing behind me, I could feel her eyeing my husband.

“Sugar, does your husband know you are already stepping out on him?”

I turned to look at her.

“I am her husband.” Don walked over to Dotty and shook her hand and introduced himself. I prayed the Dylan was quiet for just few minutes more.

Ten minutes later saw Dotty leaving in a cab with a promise for a longer visit, Don had made my excuses then found me clutching Dylan to my chest, making the poor little guy squirm I was holding on so tight.

“That woman is not my mother.” Don gentle took Dylan and placed him back in his bassinet rubbing his tummy.

Don sat back down next tom me. “Then who is she?”

“I don’t know, but the woman who was my mother abandoned me after my father died—that was just her shell reanimated.”

Don reached out and pulled my chin toward him so I was looking him in the eyes. “That’s pretty deep Savannah.”

When I frowned at him, he smiled. I picked up the nearest pillow and hit him with it. He wrestled me down until I was pinned under him. He stared at me, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

“I’m not going to break.” I said it because I knew he was waiting.

“I know.” He kissed me.

Friday, July 21, 2006

Dear Diary, --I have just killed my husband.


Here is to the dearly departed. Don was laying partially hanging off of the sofa trying to catch is breath and holding his man bits. I did my best to stifle a laugh as I padded over to the wet bar for a bottle of water. When I returned to the couch Don’s eyes were closed as if was still lost in what occurred 3 minutes ago. I placed the frosty plastic bottle of water against his stomach just to watch his muscles contract, he still didn’t open his eyes but gestured for me to get closer to him. When I did, he pulled me in for a kiss and patted the couch next to him, I laid down next to him stretching myself along side his unusually warm body…

Four hours earlier our home was unrecognizable it was crammed with so many bodies celebrating Jane’s and Pricilla’s pending bundle of joy… Don kept asking me if I invited certain people—annoyed I finally yelled “I know five-fucking people in San Francisco—who the hell did you think I invited.” I immediately felt bad, people were setting those red plastic cups on his antiques. Hell I don’t even know where the red plastic cups came from. They weren’t here when the party started.

The caterer had set out real glassware and enough food for 50 people to have 2.5 servings, whatever the hell that meant. The house groaned with the weight of had to be close to 100 people—obviously someone had blabbed several of my regulars at the Pussy had already said hello or waved from a distance. I didn’t notice, I was too busy trying to make sure no one stole anything—Jesus what the hell I have I turned into. I took a swig of the Diet Coke I had switched to when I realized how quickly things could get out of hand—someone please call the damn cops. Don had taken the other route and was drinking more, I watched him to another shot from across the room, the short burst of elation left his face soon after the alcohol was down his throat. I thought he was going to be sick until I saw him start to scan the room, he was looking for me. I was just behind a door way peering around, not because I was trying to be sneaky but because I could see two rooms at once this way.

He didn’t panic when he didn’t see me but he looked ill. What was I doing to him? I 'm not sure I made him happy, in fact I am fairly certain I scared the shit out of him. He was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop and it was starting to show, his weight was dropping. What do I do, make his fears come to fruition and bounce or do I reassure him? I wasn’t sure how to do that so I crossed the room to him and embraced him, I whispered that we needed to end the party—it was midnight and it would take at least an hour to get rid of all these people.

I knew from working in bars that it was a process. I turned the lights up just a little at first, turned the music down and slowly started to walk around cleaning up—Don, Jane and Pricilla followed my lead. By 1:30 we had the place to ourselves again and a big mess to clean up. I spotted a piece of Don’s Wedgwood teetering on the edge of table, I nudged it back onto the table hoping he didn’t spot his $50 dollar plate about to be obliterated. Who knew what else those maniacs got into.

Don was settling on the couch about to turn on the TV he motioned for me to join him and I panicked. I turned heading for the cellar to take count of the bottles.

“It’s ok, just sit.”

He reached out as if he was going to change the channel on the TV instead he threw the remote on the floor and jumped me. It took me nearly five minutes to stop laughing, he refused to give up though….

Dylan was at the other parents for one more evening and as much as I was enjoying my time with Don, I missed the nugget. I fell asleep next to Don ticking off the hours in my brain until James would bring him home.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Back In the Saddle



I was back, with the kid safely parked other parents apartment. As James walked me to the door I whispered in his ear that if anything happened to my kid I would cut his dick off. The bastard kissed me on the mouth and grinned then went back into the house with his son. He was still cute, but I think he had gotten himself into more than he could handle with the conservative Ann Marie.

By the time I had reached the Pink Pussy I had damn near chewed all of my lipstick off, worrying about what the other mother was doing with Dylan. When I walked into the Pink Pussy applying a fresh coat of gloss, I quickly forgot about Ann Marie when I heard the band conducting a sound check and saw Don behind the bar with a pencil behind his ear.

He was rapidly going through the inventory making sure everything was set for the second busiest night of the week. What a geek, he had his Buddy Holly glasses on and for some reason had decided to let a thick stubble grow on his head. He had his long sleeve T-shirt pushed up showing off his tats, which included Dylan’s name. I told him not to put my name on his body anywhere, because if things went south I didn’t want to be responsible even so, Savannah now adorned his wrist.

My husband was so not my type, small and sinewy he was not intimidating but I knew the grace and speed that was contained in the tight package. He looked up and saw me and smiled then went back to work.

As my work night began, I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. As far as I was concerned, I had brought the party back to the Pussy. While my tummy wasn’t as tight as it had been 18 months ago it wasn’t half bad and my tits were fabulous. To let everyone know I thought so I tucked a hundred dollar bill in my cleavage that begged some drunk bastard to start a fight.

Damn, I was out of shape, my right arm was burning and both wrist ached like an old lady from flipping bottles. I knocked back a Kamikaze just as Jane walked through the door with Pricilla.

“Ladies!” I called out to them raising my arms over my head, I was feeling drunk but had only one drink.

I added Gray Goose Vodka, grenadine, a whole fresh squeezed orange and pomegranate juice to a shaker and had a Pink Pussy ready for them by the time they bellied up to the bar. Jane was glowing but Pricilla looked as evil as ever. I wanted to pull the damn bull ring out of her nose for ruining my evening.

“You damn sour faced lesbian, what the fuck is your problem?”

“She’s pregnant.” Jane gushed.

I couldn’t move, I felt something bubbling deep inside my gut, when it finally burst forth it was tit shaking belly busting laughter—my face grew warm as I gasped for air. Jane looked hurt.

“I feel you sister.”

I knocked back her drink then poured the rest from the shaker for Jane.

Life just kept more interesting.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Union Square


A baby was crying, God, somewhere in the distance a baby wouldn’t stop crying. It’s piercing wails shattered my calm making my head throb. When I finally came out of my haze, I sat up abruptly causing my world to spin. I couldn’t decide if the headache started before or after Dylan started crying.
I stumbled to the crib plucking him up I unceremoniously patted him on his little ass and crawled back into bed with him. His cries died down to mewling as I lay there in the dimly lit room. This sucked I was depressed again. Nothing in me wanted this kid yet there was no way in hell I would ever give him up. What the fuck was wrong with me?
To answer my question, Mouse Face opened the door to my bedroom door without knocking.
“Yes” I didn’t bother to sit up or cover myself.
“I thought you were sleeping.” Her eyes averted my tits as if she would turn to stone if she looked.
“Well, I am awake.” Dylan was attempting to suck the pucker of skin between my arm and breast.
“Do you want…” I cut her off before she could finish.
“No, I got him.” It was time for them to move out. She was still standing the door staring at me and I wanted to get up and push her out.
“Goodbye” I waved at her sarcastically then laid back down with Dylan. I needed to get out of the house today.
Two hours later Dylan and I were sitting in Union Square deciding on where to go next. We had cleaned out Baby Gap; the Macy’s flagship store was void of their $200 dollar jeans in my size. I found a boutique with vintage T-shirts that cost and a ridiculous amount of money but I wasn’t ready to go home. My cell phone rang; I ignored it and headed to the Sketchers store. After that I would head over to Lush and buy some overpriced soap then I needed to find a Walgreen’s.
Dylan and I ate at fancy restaurant with tablecloths and nice plates then headed over to the Pink Pussy to have a talk with Daddy II. We were loaded down with crap and filled the trunk of a cab and the front seat. I wondered if my husband would regret putting money in my account every week. I hadn’t been spending anything, so I was fucking loaded.
The cab driver reluctantly helped us carry all of our bags inside so I didn’t give him a great tip. Don was behind the bar when we brought the last load in. I had one hand full of Dylan’s carrier and the other the last two bags.
“Wow, you know most of those places will deliver to your doorstep.” I smiled at him.
“Yeah but it’s not the same.” I set the bags down as he walked around the bar.
He kissed me, then Dylan.
“What’s up?” For the first time in a long time it was easy to say what I wanted.
“I want to come back to work.” I held up my hands to silence Don.
“Not bartending fulltime, I will do the books during the week with Dylan and on Thursday and Friday nights James and Mouse Face can keep the baby while I tend bar.”
“You have given this a lot of thought?” he rubbed my arms.
“Yes.” I had a question on my face.
“Deal.” he kissed me again.
I walked toward the back room to change Dylan. “Oh and it’s time for James and Mouse Face to move out”. With that, I shut the back door.
I thought I heard Don say he couldn’t agree more but it was probably just in my head. Alone in the office, well as alone as you can be with a baby strapped to your chest I felt the fog lifting and couldn’t wait until Friday night.

Monday, December 12, 2005

At Last

My attempts at breast feeding had been a joke. The kid just wouldn't stay latched on so subsequently I had given up and he was now on formula making my life much easier. Everyone could take turns feeding him and we didn't have to be attached.

My alone time was few and far between, but I learned quickly that if I sent the group off without the kid the stayed gone longer. He was asleep on my chest making soft cooing noises, while we were partially sumberged in tub full of warm water. I felt like cooing myself. The lights were down low and I sipped at a hideously small glass of wine. Thankful for the quiet.

I was tempted put him down but I knew he would be fussy by the time I put him in his diaper and onesy. I sat there until the water was nearly too cold then got up walking into the bedroom naked. I set him down on a towel I had laid out earlier ont then quickly dried myself off. I patted his pruney skin then placed him still in the towel in the pillow bumber I had made then climbed in next to him.

When I woke James standing over me, it took me a minute to remember my modesty and pull the sheet over my bare breasts.

"Wow" he grinned at me before reaching down to pick up his son. Cradling him he walked out of the room. I turned on my side but couldn't find sleep right away, it seemed as though I had just drifted off when Don climbed in next to me.

I scooted as close to him as possible intent on going back to sleep when I felt him stiffen. I opened my eyes but could only make out the outline of his face. Touching his cheek, I asked him what was wrong.

He didn't answer, instead he carassed my arm from wrist to the shoulder, repeatedly then down my side. I smiled to myself then kissed him. I threw my leg over his waist and straddled him. I couldn't help but chuckle when he exhaled so forcefully that his hips pushed me up nearly an inch. It was our first time.

When I woke in the morning, Don was gone and Dylan was back. He was on his stomach facing me with his eyes open, he was making his fussy mouth, at any minute it would become his fussy cry. I propped myself up on the pillows then put him on my chest were he seemed most at home. I thought about what to do next, as if getting up and walking six feet across the room to grab a bottle out of the fridge and put it on the warmer required much thought.

After a few false starts I got up and got the bottle. Sitting cross legged on the bed I fed him. I must have looked like the madonna because when Jane knocked quietly on the door before letting herself in, she put her hand to her chest and gasped. I frowned at her before looking back a Dylan, then I noticed my still uncut hair hanging around my elbows and the fact that I was naked didn't help.

She sat down next to me on the bed and stroked Dylan's head, while I fed him. She sniffed. Oh Jesus here we go. The floodgates had just opened when the fiancée' walked in. So there she found us, me naked and holding Dylan with Jane curled up against me.

Hate was an ugly thing, but that I night her prejudice reared it's ugly head. Her boiling argument with James floated through the vents of the old house. She couldn't bare the thought of child being reared by such people?

Such people? Her soon to be husband had no qualms about throwing down with me on the first night we met and had probably repeated the scenario on numerous occasions and she was worried about about a couple of lipstick lesbians?

I fumed, Don was at work and I was sitting in plush chair next to Dylan’s crib with my legs curled up to my chest. I would be damned if my kid turned into prejudice right wing asshole.

Shit, I was a mother.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

The Other Parents

Some asshole nurse was telling me to take deep breaths while Jane and Pricilla clicked away with disposable camera and Don calmly held my hand. I felt as though someone had just punched me in the crotch simultaneously as they stabbed me in my kidney’s. I had gotten to the hospital to late to have my epidural and my labor was increasing rapidly.

An excruciating pain shot up my ass as like poker. I felt my whole stomach stiffen then watched horrified as it actually moved on it’s own. Oh fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this thing.

Don was ready, he had a nursery commissioned diapers, clothes and formula stocked. We had discussed breast feeding, names, schools? I felt like an idiot.

Some part of me never thought I would make it this far, in the back of my head I was always going to loose this kid—now I had my big chance to screw it up. Don had made me tell James about the baby, he had promptly demanded a paternity test. Good sign right? I told him to fuck off he immediately realized I was telling the truth and refused to sign away his parental rights.

He was in the waiting room with his fiancée of one week, who actually seemed to be salivating at the idea of an instant family. Go figure, we thought the party boy decided to settle down but Priscilla scooped us all. James new honey wasn’t new at all. They had been on again off again since they were fourteen and apparently getting me pregnant curbed James need to explore.

PUSH

I did, so hard my face turned red and the world began to spin. My ears started to ring, I felt something pop and my world went black.

When I came to, everyone was staring at me they weren’t smiling anymore. Jesus, I felt my heart flip over and I lost sensation in my toes. I closed my eyes and nearly started panting my chest was so tight. Finally someone spoke.

“It’s a boy.”

I opened one eye, my chest was tight because there was a nine pound baby on it mewling and looking dead at me with big blue pools where his eyes should be. Blue? I looked at Don who laughed—I had actually forgotten he wasn’t the father.

hat a mess. I started to cry out of sheer terror but everyone thought I was happy and joined in then started taking pictures.

Two days later on the ride home, Don dropped a bomb and not so subtly. I had just turned around for the tenth time to make sure Dylan (named after Bob and Thomas) was still there when he told me that he had let James and Ann Marie move in to the house.

“Are you insane?” I couldn’t help it, my hand flung out and clipped him on the back of the head. Call it a knee jerk reaction to someone telling you there was something worse waiting at home than the bundle in the backseat.

“Look, we agreed we didn’t want a custody battle, right”

I tried to speak but he wouldn’t let me.

We he finished I found that he reasoned that it was temporary and only until Dylan was ready to travel more. The house was big, but it wasn’t that big…

When we got home, there was cake again and punch and Dylan's other parents.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Garden of Eden

Whoever said some days are better than others made a gross overstatement. Jane was sitting next to me holding my hand while Pricilla of all people applied my makeup. What the hell was I doing? Don had immediately said yes when I asked him to marry me. He didn’t smile, or jump for joy he simply said yes.

Now I was sitting in our bedroom on the trunk at the foot of the bed eyeing Jane’s champagne and wearing a simply strapless dress that fell “elegantly” over my bump and flat shoes. Jane had taken my hand because they were turning red from my fidgeting.

When Pricilla finished my makeup she shrugged.

“It’ll do”

I held up a mirror to the perfection that was my chubby pregnant face. As I angled my head from side to side I caught the slight smirk of pride of her face. I just had to burst her bubble.

“I look like a Goddamn Stepford Wife.”

Her smirk broke into a full on grin.

“I know, it’s a fucking miracle” she put the rest of her tools away.

Jane was near tears and I tried to ignore her.

“You look so beautiful.”

I still hadn’t cut my hair yet, but somehow Jane had managed to pile it all on top of my head.

“Show time” Pricilla was holding the door open.

Ten minutes later I was married in the back garden of the house I now called home. The guests included Don’s brother, Pricilla and Jane. Not every girls dream wedding, but we had full catered dinner and cake, you can’t forget the cake.

Later in the evening as I lounged across Don’s lap, Pricilla and Jane fought loudly over the Playstation 2 game that I had spent hours mastering, Katamari Damasi . While Don’s brother scowled at me over a the bottle of champagne he was drinking directly out of.

I scowled back at him and rested my hand over Don’s, which had found a willing perch on my stomach. Don must have sensed something because suddenly, after popping and olive in his mouth he announced that it was our bedtime.

It was ten minutes until 9:00 PM. As he stood taking me with him his brother followed me with his eyes. I had heard them arguing earlier, he didn’t think I was good enough for Don. Smart kid, he was right. So when I snuck back down stairs to raid the refrigerator at 2:00 AM and found him doing the same thing, I gave him an earful.

He was standing the Subzero with a spoon sticking out of his mouth. He hadn’t noticed me when I started my rant.

“You’re absolutely right.”

I nearly yelled it and the spoon dropped from his mouth and clamored to the floor.

“Ok” he shrugged.

“I’m not good enough for him, I am not even good enough for most people but I have survived this long on my own and I could survive now but I chose not to.”

“Ok”

“You don’t have to worry about me taking his money, I could give a shit about that.”

I moved until we were almost toe to toe.

“So here is your chance, lay it on me.”

“Wha?”

“The cuckolding, gold digger speech, lay it on me.”

“I don’t give a shit about his money either, I am just worried that your going to take that baby and run and smash his fucking heart.”

“Oh”

I took a step back, pointing my nose in the air as haughtily as possible.

“Shows how well you know me, I would leave the kid with him.”

I waited for a heartbeat before telling him I was kidding.

“I’m afraid for his heart too.” I retreated going back up the stairs without my snack to lie down next to my husband.

Jesus, I had total screwed myself. I was stuck all because I was afraid of becoming a man hating old lady with cats.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

Madness I say.

I knew I had to be going insane. I was talking to God and I swear the answers I got back sounded suspiciously like Sir Alec Guinness. I was working back in the bar, but no where near the booze, instead I was doing the accounting. A desk and a big damn belly that wouldn’t fit under it.

“Patience my child” Sir Alec said.

Fuck that, I had been crying for nearly three days straight. I was sleeping next to man that I had never made love too. I really can’t blame him, who the hell would want to fuck me? Pregnant with some party boys baby and growing disgust for life in general. It wasn’t fair that Don was stuck with me—fuck that, he stuck himself with me. I didn’t ask, did I?

It was almost happy hour and Don would be shooing me out the door to go home and rest. Instead of waiting I finished up my work, and locked the receipts back in the safe.

When I walked out of the office and saw Don talking to a familiar man, my heart turned over in my chest. I took a step back and without realizing it I put my hand over my stomach. The man turned to me and Don gestured in my direction with the dish rag he was holding.

“My girlfriend.” He said smiling at me.

Shit

The man who I had hit over the head nearly eight months ago was looking at me up and down, but he didn’t see me. I had pregnant belly and was wearing hot pink and had curls in my hair that I still hadn’t cut. He turned back to Don and said thank you then left.

I didn’t realize I was shaking until Don crossed the room to me and stroked my arms up and down.

“It’s ok.”

I shook my head negative.

“I’ve got to go, I have to get out of here.”

He didn’t recognize you, you don’t have to go anywhere.

“What the fuck did he say to you?”

The wait staff poured into the front door, a loud burst of chatter and bullshit.

“Let’s get you home.”

Don helped me out to the car, which these days was suspiciously a Jeep Grand Cherokee, the Jag had disappeared—I didn’t ask.

I couldn’t look at him on the way back to the house and didn’t get out to walk me to the door which was his norm. When I looked at him expectantly he spoke hesitantly.

“Are you going to be here when I get home?”

I nodded. Where the hell would I go anyway?

By 9 P.M. I was asleep. I had been severely put off after reading a short story about a woman who is depressed because she killed a friends baby on accident—no shit. That’s the kind of crap you’re not supposed to recover from—why right a story about it?

I think creativity is just another word for madness. Fear crept into my dreams along with the dead baby that turned out to be mine. I woke up screaming and fighting with the covers.

I don’t even think he woke up but Don hauled me back down by his side, and hooked his leg in mine and resumed snoring. He had probably only been asleep and hour, but I was ready to get up and start climbing the walls.

Instead I watched the sunrise with the weight of his arm resting on my side.

I thought about a lot of things. Like the first man who I thought was the love of my life. Shit, what the fuck did I know, I was only 19 and fell for his victim bullshit. You know, his wife was an evil bitch who wouldn't let him see his kids. Worst of all when his ex-wife showed back up I actually believed his lies, that they weren’t fucking and that they were just trying to make thing work for their children.

It was my fault that I was surprised when he said he had nothing to give me, and that I deserved better. Yeah right, two months later was shacked up with his ex with another brat on the way.

Sometime between sunrise and Don waking up to cook me breakfast I realized I had become one of the bitter bitches I despised.

So over a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, before I could catch myself I asked Don to marry me.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Shit, Damn, Muthafucka

One month ago when I woke up at Don’s I promptly ran to the bathroom—ok so I didn’t know where it was and I nearly puked on the fluffy rug. Anyway I vomited. Today I was in a clinic with a bitch in starched jacket asking me if I knew who the father was. Jesus H. Christ. I thought of ramming a blade into my belly to cut it out, eating poison or doing as many drugs as I could find. Shit, with my luck I would end up still pregnant and 7 months later taking care of damn retard.

“Are you going to keep it?”

When I didn’t answer right away she woman waved a clipboard in front of my face. I blinked several times.

“Fuck off.” I stood up so fast the flimsy chair flipped over.

I pushed past the Jesus freaks in the lobby telling the young girls, that they could help and walked out. I wasn’t a scared fucking kid anymore, I was pushing thirty and about to go insane. I thought I had the God damn flu, I hurled for two weeks straight it didn’t matter if it was morning or night, besides I had lost nearly ten pounds. When the puking finally stopped I got back to a normal work schedule and didn’t give it a second thought. I hung out with Don on and off, and finally started to relax—now this shit.

There was a comfortable warmth in the city today, while locals fanned themselves and cranked up their cars air conditioning, I let the sun hit my face as I walked.

What the hell was I going to do?

I found myself on a bus to North Beach, I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Outside of Don’s door I watched as a police cruiser drifted by, all eyes on me. I knocked, and let several minutes pass. I rang the doorbell and when he didn’t open the door I laid my cheek against it. When Don opened it I nearly fell in. He caught me, happily surprised and kissed me gently before returning to buttoning up his shirt.

There were so many things I could have said.

“I need a week off.”

“The stomach thing is back.”

Something, anything but instead I blurted out. “I’m pregnant, it’s not yours.”

He momentarily looked like I slapped him, then recovered.

“James?”

I nodded before wandering into the family room and collapsing on the sofa. Don followed me.

“What are you going to do about it?”

I shook my head, I sure as hell didn’t know and I sure as hell didn’t expect to hear what Don said next.

“Move in with me.”

I froze, the 72 inch flat screen HDTV in front of me reflected my blurry image. For the first time in my life I felt like I needed my mom.

Don closed the short distance to the couch and sat down next to me. I folded into him and sobbed.

Two months later I found myself still sitting on his couch, full of angst with a growing belly and a particular disdain for life. He came home every night, and kissed me and told me it was going to be ok. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. How the fuck did I get here? How the fuck did I let this sweet man become a part of my fucked up life?

I looked at his hopeful brown eyes and I wanted to love him but I was so fucked up that I couldn’t. I was going to fuck this up, fuck the kid up and everything else in between.

The cellar was only half my problem, today I had stared at the wet bar for nearly an hour. The fucking Grey Goose bottle was damn near talking to me.

When I heard the front door shut, I pretended to sleep. I had given in to the Goose and knocked back two shots, I was so afraid that he would find out.

“Savannah, lets go to bed” He pulled me up from the couch.

It was 3:30 AM when Don helped me into bed and went into the bathroom, it finally dawned on me that I had waited up for him. Maybe some small part of me was coming alive, maybe I should leave San Francisco.